The Eye of the Storm
by smoo
Summary: Voldemort has fallen, and Hogwarts is no more. Hermione has left the wizarding world behind, unable to cope with her past. But forever is a tricky word. Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine.
1. Default Chapter

Hogsmeade Village December 25th, 2015  
  
Hermione Granger wandered through the quaint little streets of Hogsmeade, pulling her Invisibility cloak tighter around her thin frame. Things certainly hadn't changed too much over the years; she smiled a little to herself, looking around at all the shops that she used to frequent with such enthusiasm during her childhood. The snow covered roofs of the buildings glimmered in the twilight, and beneath them the Christmas decorations twinkled merrily inside store windows and she could make out a warm, brightly lit Christmas tree in most of the homes she passed. She slowly made her way toward the path that led to Hogwarts, pausing before The Shrieking Shack as she always did, and muttered a silent prayer for Remus Lupin, who had spent his final hours, shackled to a stake inside, as he underwent his transformation, and slowly bled to death from several wounds made by a silver tipped dagger.  
  
This had been her Christmas time routine for the past ten years, she would set out for Hogsmeade after a solitary Christmas lunch and make her way toward her old alma mater, paying annual homage to the school, which now stood in ruins. No one had restored it after the events of Christmas day, ten years ago. Some had thought it pointless, after all, what use was a school if there was no one left to teach? Others felt the place brought back memories that were too painful to relive. The rest simply had too much on their hands, what with fighting the Dark Lord and his minions, and grieving for their lost children to spend the energy rebuilding a thousand years worth of history. Instead, they had chosen to erect a monument at the base of the school grounds, a simple towering structure in black stone in memory of Those that Died.  
  
Still, that was ten long years ago, and after many battles were fought, the Dark Lord was finally defeated after the global magical communities formed an alliance so strong, that he was unable to tackle the sheer numbers advancing against him. They, using ancient Celtic magics, managed to cleave his body from his soul, and trap him into two pieces of an primeval stone, in which he would be safely stored on two separate ends of the Earth. Each stone was placed under heavy and constant guard by descendants of the Celtic Druids themselves.  
  
She started up the overgrown path that led to the school, pausing occasionally to mutter clearing spells to clear her way. As she approached the school, the gigantic monolith erected in memory of her fellow students came into view, glimmering in the evening sun.  
  
There was a tiny group of people surrounding the monument. She, invisible to the others, stood a distance apart and observed them. Ginny Weasely had certainly blossomed into quite the opposite of her gangly, unsure, teenage self. Now editor- in- chief of the Daily Prophet, she had am efficient, businesslike authority about her, coupled with a straight- backed elegance that almost overshadowed the air of melancholy that one only saw deep in her hazel eyes. One of the three surviving members of the Weasely Clan, she had carried the family name well, having held her own with admirable courage in the Final Battle.  
  
Beside her stood Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, each lost in their own respective worlds. Every so often, they would lean slightly toward each other, as if drawing strength from the other's presence. Hermione could see Dean's lips moving in what appeared to be a muggle prayer. On the other side of the stone were Lynette Darcy and a few of other people that Hermione recognised as juniors of hers from Ravenclaw. She moved silently toward the memorial, stepping carefully, so as to avoid making too much sound. It never snowed on that place; the area around the stone was eternally covered in soft emerald grass, with clumps of scarlet poppies sprouting here and there.  
  
She paid her respects to those represented on the stone in her own way, silently mouthing the names of each person. This took up the better part of an hour, but she didn't look up until she was done. When the process was complete, she found herself alone once more. It was darker now, and the wind was blowing more fiercely than before. She continued her pilgrimage, approaching what was left of the Entrance Hall, trying as hard as she could to empty her mind of all the happy memories that suddenly invaded her. She paused for a moment, tears already snaking their way down her cheeks, and then continued to the Great Hall. Once inside, she quickly scanned the place for other people. Seeing that she was alone, she removed the invisibility cloak; her warming spell was more than adequate to keep the cold out. She sat down heavily on the floor at the base of where the Griffindor table would have been, and made no attempt to hold back the tears as they began to flow down her face.  
  
******  
  
  
  
December 25th, 2005 6:30 pm- Christmas Dinner  
  
There was excitement in the air. Hogwarts was, for once, full on students over the Christmas break, as Professor Dumbledore had thought it prudent for everyone to remain under his care as attacks on the outside world grew more frequent and random. The Death Eaters were growing in number and strength, and with the falling of Azkaban; they were becoming increasingly fearless about who and where they attacked.  
  
But those morbid realities seemed a million miles away from the Great Hall that afternoon. Ginny Weasely's eyes shone as she spoke to the Griffindor prefect beside her, her Head Girl badge glinting in the candlelight. Presents had been exchanged, and more students were carrying or wearing what they had received, and were currently in the process of showing off their new things. A Christmas feast fit to feed an army was before them, the house elves had been slaving away for days to prepare massive turkeys (enhanced by Hagrid's 'special rearing methods'), breads, pies, puddings, and every other Christmas dish one could think of.  
  
"If I could have your attention please", Dumbledore's deep voice carried over the crowd, causing almost immediate silence. "These are dark times. Voldemort's forces are growing stronger", at the mention of his name, more than a few students winced, "And we have to band together to protect our way of life. These past few months have seen the rise and fall of heroes, as well as displays of strength and valour from former students that have done Hogwarts proud. We must all learn from their examples, and put aside our petty differences in the name of the Greater Good. That being said, enjoy your meal".  
  
The normal sounds of Christmas Dinner ensued; the chatter building it's way up to its normal decibel level. Ginny looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who gave her a small smile before turning to speak to Professor McGonagall. She turned her attention back to her meal, and was about to take a bite of the succulent turkey when an almighty Crash was heard from the direction of the Entrance Hall.  
  
Many students screamed, some jumped up, some dove under their tables, and Dennis Creevy began to choke on his potatoes. All the teachers were instantly on the alert, wands shot out from under their robes as they headed toward their respective houses. She heard Professor Dumbledore's deep rumble, ordering the teachers and students to fall into their regularly practiced attack drills.  
  
Black robes began streaming in from seemingly all directions. "There are too many of them", Ginny thought at the back of her mind, as she struggled to regain her composure, knowing that her juniors would be looking to her to lead them. "It's just like practice" she tried to reassure herself, "nothing to worry about, follow your directions, and everything will be fine". But it wasn't to be. As quickly as they had entered, the Death Eaters began to fire curses at the teachers, instantly hitting Professor Trelawney and Professor Sprout, both of whom keeled over immediately.  
  
"Under the table!" screamed Ginny, reaching for her wand, "Seventh years, at the ready!" At the sound of her voice, the student body suddenly came to life. Fifth and sixth years shoved the younger children under their tables, Grant Davies, the Ravenclaw head boy started giving the order for the sixth and seventh years of his house and Slytherin to gather at the North End of the Hall, while Ginny started to lead the Hufflepuffs and Griffindors toward the South end. The frightened, but determined fifth years remained in their places to stand guard over the students hiding under the tables.  
  
Ginny and the others ran toward their designated meeting point, occasionally dodging curses that were meant for the professors. She knew that the Death Eaters would take out the teachers first, and deal with the students later. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Madam Hooch take out two Death Eaters with one well aimed curse, and, almost in slow motion, one black robe sneak up from behind her and shoot a burst of green light toward her back from point blank range. As she fell, hot tears sprung up in the corners of Ginny's eyelids, but she quickly brushed them away, knowing that she couldn't possibly fall apart now.  
  
"Assume your positions!" yelled Davies, and immediately, the sixth and seventh years arranged themselves into their well practiced formation, with the sixth years on the inside of a tight circle, and the sevenths on the outside. All of their wands were at the ready.  
  
At this point, the Death Eaters started to turn on the students. "Fire!" cried Davies and Ginny at the same time, and suddenly there were curses flying everywhere. Ginny flung the first curse that popped into her head at the nearest Death Eater. It hit him square in the chest, and he flopped over rather ungracefully. She then turned and fired several into a crowd of black robed men at the far corner of the Hall. She could hear the anguished screams of people all around her, students, teachers and Death Eaters alike. She took a second to look around for the Professors. Professor Snape was nowhere to be found. Before she could look for the others, the girl beside her, Sarah Mann let out a shriek and fell to the ground in a tangled heap. Immediately after that, the entire Hufflepuff table exploded with a light so bright that Ginny saw spots for several seconds. She barely managed to acknowledge the bodies of the children lying before her eyes, she turned to her group and yelled at them to run toward their house tables and protect as many of the others as they could.  
  
The older students, now shaking with fear and anger ran toward their respective houses, and with renewed ferocity, resumed their defence. One by one Ginny saw them fall, their curses no match for the Unforgivables that the Death Eaters were flinging out. Flashes of green light were everywhere, and she could see the numbers of the other group of Sixth and Seventh years dwindle like hers had. She moved with a desperation beyond anything she had ever experienced, felling three more Death Eaters with her various hexes. But the students were no real match for the monsters clad in black. Even as their numbers reduced considerably, their losses were far less than the students. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, along with their inexperienced protectors exploded like Hufflepuff's had, and she heard Davies' cry of grief as he witnessed the fall of many of his housemates from across the room. The remaining students, as well as those left out of the Griffindors scattered, running helter- skleter for cover, many more being stopped in their tracks. Ginny and Davies' attempts to restore order went largely unheeded, as sheer panic overrode most of the children's better judgements.  
  
Just as Ginny thought things were reaching close to their inevitable end, the main entrance to the hall burst open. "What now?" she thought to herself wearily, and even the Death Eaters turned toward the door, their curses momentarily forgotten. Some of the students took the opportunity to fire off more hexes, but they too turned to look at the people in Scarlet robes that were currently filling the Hall.  
  
Ginny thought she would faint from relief. As the hooded entrants started to fire curse upon curse at the startled Death Eaters, their hoods fell hack to reveal now famous Order of the Phoenix. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron, Fred, George and Bill Weasely, Sirius Black, Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg, Alastor Moody, Allison Krauss, and many more that Ginny didn't recognise suddenly seemed to fill the room with a renewed hope. She and the others went back to holding up their end, until she felt herself being picked up by a pair of strong arms. She fought at first, but when she realised it was Bill, she let him take her through a long passage to a place outside the school, along with several others from her house. There they found several other scarlet robed people, moving around the students, checking for injuries. She crouched over her friends, her Head Girl training taking over as she turned to see to their wounds.  
  
******  
  
  
  
Hermione arrived by floo, and tumbled into a fireplace she didn't recognise. Once she soot cleared, she looked questioningly at Harry, Ron and Sirius, who were already there, ashen faced. "It's happening", said Harry simply.  
  
"Move out", barked Sirius, and the four ran out of the room, and headed straight toward the Great Hall. They were joined on the way by the rest of the Order, and they paused outside the main door of the Hall, awaiting Moody's command. Hermione tried to ignore the sounds of torment and the cries of the children within. She glanced at Harry and Ron. Harry was pale faced, but determined. Ron was shaking, understandably, since his sister was in there.  
  
"Go!" Moody cried, and they all yelled "Dehisco Limenere'- firing identical Opening curses at the main door, which burst apart at the hinges. Then charged in, the younger members beginning to fire instantly, while the older members sought out Dumbledore and surveyed the damages.  
  
Hermione, Ron and Harry ran toward the Griffindor table. Ron looked visibly relieved that Ginny was still standing, and apparently unharmed. He gestured to Bill, who nodded and moved with Fred, George and Allison toward the table to lead Ginny and the others to safety. Harry had already taken down several black robes; Ron and Hermione weren't far behind. They fired at will, bringing down wave upon wave of the Death Eaters. But there seemed to be a never- ending supply. Every time one lot fell, another seemed to just appear in their place, never tiring, never fearing for their lives. Hermione ducked behind a portion of the overturned Ravenclaw table, trying valiantly to push down the intense nausea she felt upon seeing so many children's unmoving bodies beside her. She looked around to find that Harry and Ron were now standing back to back, firing curses at every black robe in sight. She could see Ron's left arm hanging limply at his side; probably a victim of bone- breaking curse of some sort. Hermione looked at Harry with some amount of fear, she had never seen him so furious. His usually soft green eyes were blazing; his expression was that of pure fury as he fought to protect the only home he'd ever known.  
  
She spotted Sirius and Moody take on a large group of black robes at the head table, and then fought a fresh wave of nausea as she saw the broken, bleeding bodies of so many professors strewn about. She looked about for more surviving students, and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Bill escorting the last of them out of the Hall, into the relative safety of the area beyond. But, as the last group neared the door, she noticed two Death Eaters from across the Hall take aim at them. Springing up, she yelled at Bill to get his attention, and then focused on taking out the Death Eater closer to the children. The other, however, fired a well-aimed burst of bright green light at a little blonde girl. Bill, seeing it, sprung into action, violently pushing the girl out of its path. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Bill' shove the girl to safety, stumble, and fall right in the path of the curse. Unable to scream, her mouth open in a soundless 'O', she saw Bill fall over and stop breathing. She ran toward him as fast as she could, almost getting hit by a leg- locking curse in the process. By the time she reached him, the students had left the hall safely, and she fell to her knees beside him, whispering his name. She looked up to see that his brothers had noticed what happened. George had been taking care of the children outside, and Fred was near the head table. Both their faces paled almost beyond recognition, their bright hair standing out in stark contrast to their complexions. George, who was closer, ran over to his brother's body, lines of tears falling down his face. Fred called to Ron, pointing wildly at Bill's body, while trying to help a mortally wounded Arabella Figg into a more comfortable position.  
  
The twin's reactions to their brother's death were nothing in comparison to Ron's. He let out a cry so pained that it sounded almost like a wounded animal. Fresh tears sprung to Hermione's eyes as she looked at the naked grief on her best friend's face. He ran toward Bill blindly, and Harry had to cover him lest he too get injured. He knelt before his older brother, took his face in his unbroken hand, and Hermione watched as his expression turned from one of pure pain, to pure anger. He leapt up and ran toward the nearest Death Eater he could find and, wand forgotten, began repeatedly punching him in the face.  
  
"He was my brother you bastards!" he kept crying, as he kept punching the now unconscious Death Eater. Hermione and Harry let him continue like that for a couple of minutes, as they made sure no harm came to him or George as he pulled Bill's body out of the Hall. They finally turned to Ron and pulled him off the comatose Death Eater and dragged him out of the Hall as well. "Let me go", he struggled against them with an astonishing amount of strength, "They Killed Bill!" Hermione nodded to Harry, who gave Ron one last squeeze on the shoulder, and turned back toward the Hall. Ron clung to Hermione like a child, sobbing heavily into her robes. She held him for what seemed like a long while, and when George reappeared, wiping the tears off his face, she called out to him to take Ron away as well.  
  
"I have to go back in now Ron", she told him gently, "We are going to finish this, one way or another. I promise." Ron didn't even look up as George led him down the passage. Hermione returned to the hall and surveyed the situation. Mundungus Fletcher was lying in the middle of the Hall, either dead, or massively injured. Fred was tending to him, but the resignation was written all over his face. Harry was on one end of the Head Table, and Dumbledore was at the other end, both of them seemed to be staring at each other intently. Sirius and Moody were in the centre of the Hall, taking out one Death Eater after another. Hermione could see them tiring however, and wondered how long they would all be able to keep this up. Snape was in the far corner with a bleeding eye, desperately fending off six or seven Death Eaters as they slowly backed him upto a wall. She leapt out of her spot and rushed to his aid, despite the blinding pain in her left eye from a thankfully short lived Conjunctivitis curse, she managed to incapacitate two of his attackers.  
  
"Are you all right Miss Granger?", he asked her. " I will be", she replied grimly, "as soon as this ends". He nodded, and took off after another group that suddenly made its appearance from the far corner of the room. Hermione turned to look at Dumbledore and Harry, who were still staring at each other as intently as before. Understanding suddenly dawned on her, as she realised what they were about to do.  
  
"Sirius, Moody, Fred!" she called urgently, "It's starting! Let's move!" All the scarlet robed soldiers turned to look at the Boy who Lived and his Mentor, as they stared at each other unblinking, unmoving. A magic so powerful that everyone in the room felt it deep within their bones, seemed to emanate from them. As they ran for the passage leading out of the castle, Hermione saw the pair encompass themselves in a white bubble so bright, it hurt her eyes.  
  
The bubble grew, slowly but surely, and as it grew, it spread outwards, destroying everything in its path. Tables, chairs, bodies- living and dead, they all silently evaporated as the bubble touched them, and Hermione and the others had just enough time to reach the first aid camp outside the grounds before the crashes began. Even though the bubble wasn't powerful enough to completely destroy a millennia- old structure, it caused more than enough damage. Hermione watched with tears in her eyes as the mighty Griffindor tower collapsed upon itself, and large parts of the school crumbled like they were made of dry mud.  
  
Too much in shock to say anything, Hermione fell to her knees, hot tears streaming down her face. She watched silently as the mighty castle fell before her, taking any and all that were inside- alive or dead. Her vision blurred, and she felt the ground come closer, but all she could think about was all the people that died defending those fallen walls. Then it struck her. Harry was inside.  
  
She half rose to her feet. "Harry!" she yelled, and started toward the castle. She felt herself being pulled back and a pair of strong arms held her fast from behind. "No!" she struggled against her captor. "Harry's still inside! I have to get him out!" But the arms were too strong.  
  
"Shhh Hermione", whispered Sirius. "It's too late now, you knew this would happen. You knew that Harry and Dumbledore would do anything to prevent Hogwarts from falling into Voldemort's hands" he held her tight, and she struggles against him grew weaker. "But Voldemort isn't even there", she sobbed, "They shouldn't have done it". "I know Hermione", said Sirius, his voice cracking, "but you know he would have come after the Death Eaters had secured the castle. This was his final conquest; he would not have stayed away. We had to make sure that didn't happen. This was a backup plan; we were prepared. You were prepared for this".  
  
"No no no no", she sobbed against his chest, "This wasn't supposed to happen. Harry wasn't supposed to go like this. He was supposed to defeat Voldemort", she looked up at Sirius' face, tears showing no signs of stopping, "How am I going to live without him?"  
  
Now Sirius began crying in earnest too. "I don't know Hermione, I don't know. I couldn't' protect him either". And they held each other for a long time afterward, neither remembering fully the journey back to Headquarters.  
  
******  
  
After the fall of Hogwarts, the global magical communities banded together, and the forces of Light finally defeated the Dark, and Voldemort was cast into his current resting place. That same day, while the rest of the world was rejoicing, Hermione packed her meagre possessions into a trunk, owled Ron, telling him that she would be in touch with him, and to not contact her; and left the wizarding world behind. The only tokens she took with her to remind her of her past life were her wand, the necklace Ron had saved up to buy her for her 18th birthday, and the emerald ring Harry had given her when they had graduated.  
  
Ron ignored her plea to stay out of touch, and he habitually mailed her once in a fortnight. She had every single one of his letters, unopened, and stacked in a growing pile in the corner of her wardrobe. Ginny and the others mailed her occasionally too, but after years of not writing back, their letters had stopped. Draco was the only other person to mail her, that is, if a birthday card a year counted.  
  
Hermione had begun a new life; one without magic. Having settled down in a small village near Bath, she took up a job as a librarian, spending her days quietly in the calm confines of her workspace. She rarely went out, and had no friends. The only real trip she made anymore was her yearly pilgrimage to Hogwarts, and that too, under the protection of the invisibility cloak she had purchased shortly after she had left Hogwarts. This was her life now, calm, peaceful, boring and anonymous. It almost helped her forget Harry and the horrors of her past entirely. Almost.  
  
******  
  
The Great Hall of Hogwarts- The present  
  
Hermione sat up, wiped the tears still staining her face, and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her swollen, red eyes. She sat there a little while longer, her eyes closed waiting for her sobs to subside. After a few minutes, satisfied that she had regained her self-composure again, she pulled out her wand and muttered "lumos" and began to look about for her things.  
  
"Here Hermione", a quiet voice resonated behind her, "you almost forgot this".  
  
Hermione whirled around, her wildly thumping heart beating at her throat, her wand raised at the person behind her. The light was still emanating from the end of the wand, and it illuminated a face for a split second before she dropped it with a scream. The face was so familiar, so wholly burned into her memory that she could still see it, every line, every curve, every strand of hair perfectly, even without the light. The wand clattered on the ground, still pointing at the man before her, casting his features in an eerie, almost ethereal glow.  
  
Standing before her, holding her invisibility cloak in his outstretched hand was Harry Potter.  
  
****** 


	2. TEotS01

The Eye of the Storm- Chapter 01  
  
Hermione blinked twice and sat down very hard on the cold stone floor. She stared at the man standing before her and then, with great effort, forced herself to close her eyes.  
  
"No, Hermione," she told herself sternly, "This won't do at all. We've talked about this; there is No Harry. Harry is dead, he didn't become a ghost, and you are not seeing any part of him standing in front of you. You are going to count to three and open your eyes, and he is going to be Gone".  
  
She slowly opened her eyes, half expecting him to be replaced by the semi- wand lit Hall, but instead, there he was, still clutching the cloak and scratching his head with his free hand; his face a mixture of bewilderment and impatience.  
  
"Erm, Hermione?" he finally ventured, "Are you Quite all right?" He started toward her, and then stopped as she scrambled backward with a small shriek.  
  
"This can't be happening," Hermione muttered, half to herself, "I've seen you before, but you've never spoken to me. Why are you talking to me now? Go away, you're dead. Stop haunting me, I can't take much more of this. please.."  
  
Hearing this, Harry's expression changed from confusion to understanding. "Oh Merlin's ghost, you don't know," he said slowly, "Hermione, it's me, Harry. I'm Not dead, and I'm not a ghost.."  
  
"Stop!" she screamed, "Stop doing this to me! I can't take this anymore. Please, just leave me alone!" she buried her head in her hands and started to cry.  
  
Harry approached her softly and knelt beside her trembling form. "Hermione, look at me. I'm not dead. That was the plan- didn't Ron tell you? I had to let everyone think that remember?" she finally looked up, sniffling, and he continued, "Hermione, take my hand, touch my face. I'm not a ghost; it's me. See?"  
  
He took her hand gingerly in hers, and ignoring her hesitation, brought it to his face. "See? I'm no more dead than you are."  
  
Hermione's hand shook as she let him guide her hand over his face. "This isn't happening," she thought shakily, "It can't be. how can it?" But it was, it was all there; the soft skin, the smooth cheeks, the silky black hair that always seemed to be at war with his scalp, those lips that curved so gracefully into a smile, and those Eyes, those beautiful eyes that shone the most exquisite shade of jade, even in the dimmest of wandlight. Hermione slowly moved her hand over his face, slowly allowing her mind to believe that this was indeed Harry. She gulped and looked up at him questioningly, not trusting herself to speak.  
  
"Hermione, didn't you know I wasn't dead?" he asked softly, "Ron told me he had written to you and explained the whole thing. Didn't you get his letters?"  
  
"I- I did," she said, her voice only wavering a little bit, "I got every single one of his letters.. I got all their letters. I just couldn't get myself to open them. How? Why? Where?"- she was cut off.  
  
"You didn't open the letters?" he asked sharply, his eyes darkening, "Not a single one?"  
  
"N- No," she said in a small voice, "I couldn't, I just couldn't face any of it again. After you.and Hogwarts. and when everything was over. Oh I don't know. I just couldn't face it again." With that, she buried her face in her hands, trying to cover up the treacherous tears that threatened to spill all over again. "Oh please don't be angry. I didn't know. I had no idea whatsoever. Oh Harry, you were alive all this time, and I Didn't know. Oh my God.."  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, his tone more gentle this time, "Don't cry, it's all right. Everything will be fine." He hesitantly reached for her and drew her into his arms, awkwardly patting her back to calm her down. This only served to bring forth a deluge, and they knelt together for a long time in the cold winter's night, until her tears finally subsided.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she sniffled, pulling away but not breaking body contact, "Oh, Harry! I had no idea you were alive. If I did, I would never have left. I just couldn't bear the thought of facing life in this world without you, please understand that. I Had to go away, it was the only thing I could think of doing to preserve my sanity," she smiled ruefully, then brightened, "Oh, but it doesn't matter now! None of it does! What matters is that you're alive! You're here!" Ignoring her numb knees and aching legs, she launched herself at him again, holding every part of him that she possibly could.  
  
Harry hugged her back fiercely for a minute, and then pulled away. "Hermione," he said slowly, "everything is Not all right. You haven't read any of Ron's letters. you don't know what is going on. We thought you had known, and that you were choosing to ignore it, we thought you had turned your back on us."  
  
"What?" she said in surprise, "Going on? Turn my back on you all? Harry, what are you talking about?"  
  
Harry sighed, "Oh God. Hermione, there is so much you have to know. But not here. If I stay here any longer, I'm going to be in a fair amount of danger of having my feet actually fall off my body." He stood up and brushed himself off, extending a hand to help Hermione up as well. "I'm going to apparate to my house, can you come with me? All you have to do is hold on".  
  
Hermione nodded and held onto his hand as he drew his wand out from his jacket pocket, muttered a spell to bind her to him, and Disapparated.  
  
**********  
  
When Hermione reopened her eyes, they were standing in the middle of a cozy foyer, with a coat rack to her left, a passage extending to her left and a rather grand staircase before her. Harry gently extracted his hand from hers and removed his coat, hanging it up before moving to help Hermione remove hers.  
  
"Where are we Harry?" she asked, looking around, "Is this your house?"  
  
"Yes, it is," said Harry, peering down the passage, looking for someone, "Welcome to Godric's Hollow. I can give you the 10 knut tour later, but now, there's someone that has been anxious to meet you. Come along, will you?"  
  
He started down the passage, and Hermione hurried after him, saving all the hundreds of questions for later. As she moved further down the brightly lit corridor, she became increasingly aware of the sound of someone playing the piano up ahead. The sound seemed to be coming from a door before which Harry finally stopped, and knocked twice on. "It's me," he said loudly, "I've found her, can we come in?"  
  
"Yes, come on." A deep, familiar voice replied, and Harry opened the door to reveal Sirius seated in front of a grand piano, clad in a black turtleneck and trousers. Hermione gulped and emerged from behind Harry, where she realised she had been hiding.  
  
"Hermione! Its good to see you again," said Sirius, rising from his seat and walking toward her, "It's been a long time. How have you been?"  
  
"All right," she replied a little shakily, "I- I didn't know. about Harry I mean. I would have come back. H- How are you Sirius?" She approached him cautiously and gasped as he enveloped her in a bear hug.  
  
"It's good to have you back Hermione," he said, then drew back, "you look chilled to the bone. You too Harry. What were the two of you doing, playing in the snow?"  
  
"It's my fault, I'm afraid," said Harry, "I think I rather shocked her. Sirius, she hasn't read any of Ron's letters, she doesn't know what's going on."  
  
"What is going on?" Hermione turned to Harry, and then to Sirius, "Harry keeps telling me that things aren't fine anymore. Is something wrong? H- Has Voldemort returned?" she said the last bit hesitantly, afraid of what the reply was going to be.  
  
"Oh, no Hermione," Sirius reassured her, "His remains are still under guard." He began to herd the two of them out of the room, further down the hall. "We have lots to talk about, but I think a couple of mugs of hot coffee are in order first. Don't need the two of you falling ill after gallivanting about the Scottish countryside in the middle of winder, do we?"  
  
Hermione allowed herself to be led down the passage, which seemed to be covered with wizard photographs of Harry, Sirius, Draco, Ron and his family, and a few others that she didn't recognise. Before she had a chance to ask about them however, Sirius turned left and entered a warm looking kitchen.  
  
It was a cheery room, the kitchen, with windows along every wall, a large stove to the left, and pots hanging from a rack beside it. The shelves seemed to be stocked with every kind of chocolate-based food Hermione could imagine, with the occasional jar of beans or sugar making an appearance between an army of desserts. To her right was a cheerful fire cackling behind a grate, and before it lay an enormous tabby with orange and black stripes. It was snoozing, and making a noise that sounded suspiciously like snores.  
  
"Have a seat at the table Hermione," he said, waving in the general direction of a four- person, slightly scuffed table near the fireplace, "I'll have the coffee brewing in just a minute. Harry, hand me that pot will you?"  
  
"He refuses to use magic to cook," explained Harry, sitting down beside Hermione, "he thinks it takes away from the flavour."  
  
"You're dead on, it does," said Sirius from the stove, "a wand is a wand, and it was never meant to be used as a cooking utensil." He walked over to the table, and set down a tray with three steaming, mismatched cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits. Running a parental eye over her thin frame, he pushed the plate of biscuits toward her. "Here, Hermione; you look like you haven't been taking care of yourself properly."  
  
"Thanks Sirius," she grinned, taking a biscuit and nibbling at it, "but tell me, when did you transform into Mother Goose?"  
  
Harry chortled into his coffee mug, and Sirius looked bewildered. "Who?" he demanded, "I'm Mother nobody. You just look thinner than you used to, that's all. No reason to go after a bloke's manliness."  
  
"Sorry," she said apologetically, "it's been a long time since anyone cared about my eating habits. But enough about me. Tell me, what's the matter?"  
  
"Same old Hermione," Sirius said to Harry with a small smile, "right down to business." He turned to Hermione, "Well, since you seem to know nothing after the day you. left. I may as well start from then." Hermione bowed her head guiltily, but said nothing, letting Sirius continue.  
  
"Well, you left the day Voldemort's body was cleaved from his soul," he began, "and aside from your leaving, there was much to celebrate. We were finally rid of that plague, and the Wizarding community had reached the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. We, the surviving members of the Order began to band together the remaining Death Eaters. They were shipped off to Azkaban, and the trials were held there. Moody was insistent that Veritaserum was used on every Death Eater on trial, and most of them were found guilty." Sirius paused, took a sip of his coffee, and continued.  
  
"Once the Death Eaters were safely locked away in Azkaban, and the Dementors were reinstated as the prison guards, we could start to rebuild our lives. There was a new hope, people started to smile again, and those who had lost their loved ones could finally grieve in peace. That's also when the memorial at Hogwarts was built."  
  
"But what about Harry?" Hermione interrupted, "Where was he? Why were we made to think he was dead?"  
  
"I'll take it from here Sirius," said Harry quietly, "When Hogwarts was. destroyed, contrary to what you believed, I wasn't inside. What wasn't told to anyone but me, was that Dumbledore had built a secret passageway that led outside the castle from right beneath the teacher's table in the Great Hall. Once the Bubble grew strong enough, it only took one of us to ensure that it did it's job." He gulped and continued, his voice cracking, "Dumbledore insisted that I be the one to escape through the trap door, while he remained behind to make sure Voldemort never captured Hogwarts. He sacrificed himself so that I could live.  
  
It was all planned out. Dumbledore and I had spoken about this many times. I was to escape through the passage, inside which was a set of Death Eater robes, money, a whole new identity. I was to use a Long- wearing Glamour on myself and infiltrate their numbers as a Death Eater that managed to escape from the battle. My contacts within their ranks had given me a location to apparate to, and since at that time there were too many newly recruited Death Eaters, not all of which had the Dark Mark; I managed to get in without raising too much suspicion.  
  
The only other person that eventually came to know was Sirius. Since he was 'Gus Fletcher's second, he took over the Order after we lost 'Gus at Hogwarts. Sirius was my contact, and under strict instruction not to let anyone know I was still alive. We didn't know who was working for the Dark Side, and it was safer for you, Ron and the others to simply think I was dead."  
  
Ignoring Hermione's murderous look, Harry went on, "I was sending periodic messages to Sirius, telling him where and when the Death Eater were to strike. Even after the fall of Voldemort, I had to remain in hiding until all the Death Eaters were arrested and thrown in Azkaban, for fear that they may find that I was the informer and cause harm to the people I cared about."  
  
He paused, his jade eyes boring into Hermione's, "The very day the last Death Eater was put into Azkaban, I came out of hiding. It was my testimony that finally put away Lucius Malfoy, and after that, Sirius and I got to work, rebuilding our lives. Godric's Hollow was still under my name, and we had it rebuilt to what it is now," he smiled a little, "everything was finally good, more or less, and it has been for the past few years. We, along with a few others from the Order work with the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement Division, but of course, our dealings are of a more. sensitive nature than the average Auror's."  
  
"What he means is," continued Sirius, "We work largely under the radar against Dark Magic, trying eradicate as much of it as possible, without raising the kind of panic that the Magical community had gone through during the reigns of the Dark Wizards."  
  
"But what went wrong?" asked Hermione, finishing off the last of her coffee, "and what does it have to do with me?"  
  
"Well, lately things have been happening that have been. let's say. less than ordinary," said Harry, "there are always Wizards performing Dark Magic Hermione, and they will probably always will. Those Wizards indulging in the Dark Arts however, usually have no stranger a motive than to gain power, maybe have some followers, and generally make people pay attention. We can deal with those Wizards, once we know the reason behind their actions, measures can be taken to stop them.  
  
But recently, there are stirrings of Dark Magic from all corners of the Magical Community. Ordinary people have turned on their neighbours, little children have suddenly taken to attacking anyone within range, often getting very hurt themselves in the process. At first, it seemed like one or two freak incidents here and there, and no two were connected to one another. It may have been a Wizard suddenly setting fire to his own house and burning his entire family within it one day in Hogsmeade, and a dog turning on it's owner and gnawing a good portion of his face off for no apparent reason hundreds of miles away a couple of weeks later.  
  
It's almost as if someone was turning normal, ordinary people into their doppelgangers; but it seems to be completely without a motive. All these people have been arrested and contained within hours of their 'attacks', and the people under the influence of whoever this is, have been completely normal, largely uninfluential Witches and Wizards. It just wasn't making sense until very recently."  
  
"What happened recently?" she asked, unable to conceal her impatience. But, before Harry could go on, a large tawny owl flew upto the window and began to peck gently against the glass. Harry lifted the windowpane, led the owl to a wooden perch and took the letter tied to the owl's leg, opened it, scanning the contents quickly.  
  
"Its from Jehaan," he said tightly, looking up at Sirius, "There's been another attack. A Wizard in London took an axe to his Muggle neighbour. The man is close to death, even the doctors at St. Mungo's aren't sure whether they can heal him. I'm going to reply to this right away." He turned and left the room.  
  
"Another attack?" asked Hermione, "How many have there been so far?"  
  
"Too many," said Sirius tightly, "at least eleven in the past eight months in Scotland alone, another fourteen or fifteen in England. The scary part is that they are increasing in frequency."  
  
"Tell me," said Hermione, "What can I do?"  
  
"That was the part we were getting to," started Sirius, "Since the fall of Voldemort and his followers, the Ministry has gone extremely lax in the Department Charms Research and Development. That was your specialty before, and since you left us, there hasn't been a lot of progress in that area.."  
  
"But," Hermione interrupted, "Sirius. its' been so long. Why me? And why now?"  
  
"I know Hermione," said Sirius, his voice taking on a slight edge, "We all know you left, and you have been ignoring all the attempts made at communicating with you. More than one person had misgivings of coming to find you the way we did, but desperation finally won out." Ignoring the hurt expression, he continued, "But the fact remains that these attacks have us completely baffled, and if we let them continue, the effects could be disastrous for the entire Community."  
  
He paused, his piercing blue stare boring into Hermione, "There is a lot more information that I cannot give you yet. First, I need to know whether you are willing to help. It is completely upto you, but remember Hermione, we are in a bind." He grinned suddenly, displaying a set of beautiful white teeth, "after all, there's no one to beat Hermione Granger when it comes to making vital information reveal itself."  
  
"Sirius." she began cautiously, "I don't know. there are so many things to consider, there's my life, my job, I mean. I left- like you said. How are people going to react if I suddenly pranced back into this life, as if nothing had happened? And what about."  
  
She was cut off by the sound of a door slamming, and loud footsteps clattering down the hall toward the kitchen.  
  
"Sirius!" a decidedly feminine voice called from the corridor, "Where are you? Is she here yet? You are never going to believe what Billy did today. Where.?" the owner of the voice finally entered the room, and for a second there was pin drop silence as the two women regarded each other.  
  
The voice came from a petite young woman carrying a slightly battered child's broomstick in one hand, and an equally battered Quidditch bag in the other. She had a slightly elfin face, topped with a mop of short black hair and streaked through with a violent shade of red. She wore a cropped t- shirt over combat pants and a scuffed pair of heavy workman's boots, and looking at her closely, Hermione could tell that she had a tattoo peeking out from under the waistband of her trousers.  
  
She took one look at Hermione, from her neatly tied brown hair, down to her schoolteacher shoes, and gave a slight smile. "Well Sirius, arent' you going to introduce me to your friend?"  
  
"I apologise," said Sirius, his eyes twinkling, "Dagny, this is the much talked about Hermione Granger." He turned to Hermione, "And this is Dagny Winters, my niece."  
  
Overcoming her initial shock, Hermione stuck her hand out, "It- It's nice to meet you Dagny."  
  
Dagny took the proffered hand after handing the broomstick to Sirius, "So you are the fabled Hermione, are you? I have to admit, you're a lot smaller than you look in the photographs."  
  
"What happened to Billy?" Sirius asked, examining the broom, which appeared to be rather damaged, "Did he fall off again?"  
  
"Yes," Dagny sighed, "I tell you, one of these days, he's going to get seriously hurt. He never lets me put safety charms on the broom, and insists on doing the most reckless stunts on it. Claims that if 'Uncle Harry can do it', so can he."  
  
"Uncle Harry?" asked Hermione, "Who is Billy? How is he Harry's nephew?"  
  
"Billy is Ron's son of course," said Dagny, looking at Hermione strangely, "Are you quite all right?"  
  
"Ron's. what?" repeated Hermione faintly, "Ron has a son?"  
  
"Yes, Ron has a son," said Dagny, slowly, as if explaining things to a very small child, "He's had one for about four years now." She turned to Sirius with a look that said 'I think this one belongs on an oak tree'. "Sirius, what is the matter with her? Does she forget things? Or did Ron not tell her?"  
  
"Ron." repeated Hermione, still looking dazed, "Who? Who is he married to? When did he get married?"  
  
"Ron Was married to Clara, Hermione," explained Sirius, "They met each other about six years ago, and married very soon after. She was an Auror. She passed away about two years ago, during a run in with a rabid Manticore that was terrorizing a group of schoolchildren."  
  
"Oh my God," said Hermione, still in a state of shock, "Poor Ron. I didn't know. Sirius, I missed so much! How can I just walk back in like this?"  
  
"It's your decision Hermione," said Sirius, and then turned to Dagny who had a questioning look on her face, "She didn't read any of Ron's letters. She doesn't have any idea about anything that's happened since she left."  
  
"Well, I've replied to Jehaan," said Harry, walking into the room, "I told him about Hermione. oh hello Dagny. How was practice today?"  
  
Hermione started to speak, but she got as far as opening her mouth, when her jaw refused to do anything other than drop as Dagny, looking straight at Hermione with an expression that clearly said, 'Stop me if you dare', stood up, whirled around, stalked over to Harry, stood on the tips of her toes, placed a hand on each side of his face, pulled him down and kissed him possessively on the mouth.  
  
"Hello Harry," she said, after several moments of thoroughly branding him with her dark red lipstick, "How was your day?"  
  
**********  
  
Hermione stumbled into her cottage feeling rather like a troll had stamped all over the life she had so carefully woven together. Sirius, after looking very amused at the antics of his niece, had offered to take Hermione home. Looking at Harry, who was rapidly turning a brilliant shade of red with his glasses askew and his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, she had accepted gladly, feeling like she had taken all she could that day. Besides, she had been anxious to get home for an entirely different reason.  
  
No sooner had she taken her coat off, she ran to her cupboard and, with some effort, pulled out the box full of letters, plopped down beside it on the floor, and began to read. She started with the first one that Ron had ever sent, two or three days after she had left.  
  
Dear Hermione, I know you asked me not to write to you, and I was fully intent on respecting your wishes, but as the days past, I couldn't help myself. In your note, you never told me why you were leaving, only that you wanted to 'Get away from it all'. But that's a load of tosh Hermione; you know that as well as I do. We've grown up together, you, Harry and I, and in all the years that I've known you, you've never been one to walk away from a challenge. This time though, it took me a while to realise what the 'challenge' was. I mean, Voldemort's dead, we've won, and things can finally be peaceful again. So I asked myself several times since you left- what were you afraid of? But, then it slowly dawned on me. Harry. Living without Him. When the thought first occurred to me, I passed it off to simply be a part of the problem- whatever it was. But, it kept nagging me, and the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The looks you two would give each other when you thought no one was looking. The little smiles that you reserved only for him, the surreptitious little touches between the two of you, they all seemed innocent enough until I took the whole lot of them into account.  
  
I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me you were involved Hermione. I'm not a total prat, you know, I could have taken it in my stride. Hell, I may even have helped you cope after That Day. But I suppose, I have to respect your decision. I just want you to know that I'd have been there for you, if only I had known. Well, that's all really. I've never been one to spew out long, eloquent pieces of prose. I will try and respect your decision to be left alone, but I want you to know that if you ever need me, or you decide to come home, I'll be there.  
  
With Love, Ron *********  
  
The second letter, however, wasn't quite so understanding.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
It's been a couple of weeks since I wrote to you, and having received no reply, I assume that either you are choosing to ignore me, or the owl isn't doing it's job. I've thought about it, and I've decided that I Am a little angry with you. You really had no right to leave me alone like you did. I mean, sure, you lost Harry. But Hermione, I lost him too. And then you made me lose you. Did it ever occur to you that I might need you as badly as he did? Maybe even more after Bill and my parents died? That day, the day we lost Harry at Hogwarts, I lost a best friend And a brother. But I remember thinking to myself during that ride home, and for a long while after that I still had you. And it did make me feel a little better. I thought that as long as we had each other, we could share our pain, and maybe it wouldn't be as bad. But you didn't let me share yours did you? You bore it all yourself, and you bore mine too. I'll always be grateful for that, but I feel a little cheated at the same time. It may be wrong of me to feel that way, but I had to tell you. No one else would understand. Well, no one left alive anyway.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
P.S: Draco says Hello.  
  
**********  
  
After going through a few more letters, she came across the one that would have changed her life, had she bothered to open it.  
  
He's alive! He's alive! Hermione, it's Harry!! He came back! Oh please tell me you are reading this letter, and if you are, please Please hurry home. Harry's not dead! Not even close! Apparently there was some sort of loop in the Bubble that Dumbledore and he had created, whereby he was able to escape! He's been living underground all this time, working to get at the Death Eaters, and now that they've all been captured, he's returned to us! It was such a shock, I thought I would my heart would stop beating when I saw him standing there. Actually, I think it did stop beating for a second. He's the same, Hermione, except for a few battle scars here and there. They're keeping him at Headquarters for the time being, medical checkups and debriefings and the like. But they're releasing him soon, and he's been asking for you! Please come home Hermione, I promise it'll be everything you ever wanted. I'll make sure of it, and so will Harry and Draco. I swear.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Hermione read the letter over and over, tears streaming down her cheeks all the while. "Oh Ron," she whispered, "I am so sorry. Why did I have to be so stubborn?" she wiped her eyes furiously and continued reading.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Well, you still haven't replied to my last letter, which leads me to believe that you are either ignoring the letters altogether, or they aren't reaching you. In case my last letter didn't reach you, I'll repeat the message- Harry's alive! He's out of quarantine, and staying with me for the time being. He's been asking for you, and wants to know where you are. I told him that you hadn't left a forwarding address, and the only way to reach you was via owl, but I have to tell you Hermione, that didn't sit too well with him. He's demanding to know why you went away, and I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. I've even tried using that blasted fellytone machine to find you, but when we tried to use that information service thing, an utterly wretched- sounding woman told us that your name wasn't listed anywhere. If you are reading this Hermione, please contact me. A lot of people need you, Harry most of all. If nothing else, at least think about it, you mean a lot to us.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
This is probably the last letter you will be receiving from me. It's been almost a year since you've been gone, and it is painfully obvious that you want nothing further to do with us. The reason that I'm even writing this letter is just to inform you that after over a month of avoiding Harry's questions as to your motives, I finally broke down and told what I knew, and what I suspected. I also told him that I, among other people have been trying to find you, and that, for some reason, you have chosen to remain hidden. He didn't take this well Hermione, and he is very upset with you. Of course, Harry being Harry, his first impulse was to rush right out and look in every possible nook and cranny for you. Draco, Sirius and I however, managed to convince him not to go haring after someone that doesn't want to be found. So, instead, Harry is trying to build himself the kind of normal life he so richly deserves. Sirius and he have decided to rebuild Harry's parent's house in Godric's Hollow, since the property is in Harry's name. It will be good for him, I think, to be able to concentrate on something other than the past. Hermione, please don't take Draco's, Sirius' and my actions as offensive, we care about you as much as we ever did. But, you have to understand that Harry still has to live, and until you decide to return (If you decide to return), he has to learn to live for himself.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Hermione remembered the time after receiving that letter of Ron's where there was no owl post from him for many months. She remembered feeling more lonely than usual during those long months, she had come to rely on Ron's letters, for even though she hadn't opened any of them, there was someone out there that was thinking of her. Standing up for a second to stretch her cramped muscles, she registered the time as three in the morning, but she was determined to complete the task at hand. She picked up the next bundle of letters, and continued reading.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Yes, I know I ranted on in my last letter about deciding never to write to you again, but I couldn't keep away. You know me; the second anything of the remotest importance comes up, I Have to tell Harry and you. It's almost as if I don't know until the two of you do. Well, here goes. I've met someone! Her name is Clara, she's training to be an Auror, and she's the most breathtakingly beautiful, sweetest, funniest, most intelligent (after you of course) woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. We bumped into each other (literally) at the Ministry of Magic building last week, and for the first time in my life, I actually had the nerve to ask her to have dinner with me that night. I think it was her eyes. They're brown. No. Not brown, hazel. With these lovely green flecks in them, and they're so deep that I swear I truly feel like I'm drowning every time I look at her. Plus, the corners wrinkle just a little in the cutest way when she laughs. but I'm digressing. The point is that we went out for dinner, and had a fabulous time. Harry's met her, and he likes her too. We've scarcely spent any of our free time apart after that, and I really think I'm in love. Wow, I can't believe I just said that. I Am In Love. Ronald Weasley is in Love with Clara Payne. Ronald Weasley and Clara Payne. Clara Weasley. That has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Anyway, I don't know if you are reading this, but I thought I'd tell you anyway. I think I'm going to keep writing to you anyway, it's sort of like I'm talking to you, and sometimes I almost feel I can hear you inside my head, telling me what you think I ought to do. No, I'm not crazy.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
I'm going to do it!! I, Ron Weasley, bachelor extraordinaire, am going to ask Clara to marry me! Now, I know what you are thinking. 'It's too early', 'You've only known her a couple of months', and 'What if things don't work out?' But Hermione, it feels so Right. Save for making friends with you and Harry in the first year (and hexing Draco in our fourth), this is possibly the only decision I've ever made that my entire body, heart and mind have been in complete agreement over. I wish you could meet her Hermione. You'd like her, I'm sure of it. She reminds me of you in many ways, her brown hair, her quick laugh, her love of reading that sometimes borders on obsession. All right, that last one isn't one of my favourites, especially since there are a lot of other activities I can think of to occupy her spare time.. I haven't quite decided how to do it yet, and I'm beyond nervous. I'm sure I will muck it up somehow, you know; say the wrong thing, or worse- to the wrong person. Harry's excited about the idea, but the most interesting plan he could come up with was to take her to dinner and slip a ring into her dessert. Once we considered the possibility of her opting not to have dessert however, the entire idea fell apart. Also, we wouldn't want her choking to death on a diamond, would we? That's right, I've already bought the ring. I loved it; it's just a plain gold band with the largest diamond I could afford in the centre. The lady at the jewellery shop charmed it to glows softly when worn. Draco's suggestions for 'Ways to propose' were far more. colourful, but unfortunately, most of them would get one or both of us arrested in most countries around the world. So, I'm still in a fix. Any ideas?  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
She said yes! I still can't quite believe it; the most beautiful woman in the world actually wants to marry me! Me! Ronald Weasley! It's too good to be true. I've been pinching myself black and blue for the past two days, and I have to believe it, since I'm in a fairly large amount of pain. Also, my jaw is paining from grinning all bloody day. But I don't mind, I call it Happy Pain. We haven't worked out all the details yet, but we are planning a small ceremony, just family and close friends. I'd love for you to come, if you are getting this, please do come Hermione, it'd mean the world to me. I'll owl you the details soon.  
  
The future Mr Clara Payne, Ron  
  
**********  
  
The next few letters described the wedding plans, the wedding itself, and after another gap of a couple of months, the *mentionable* parts of the honeymoon, where Ron and Clara had apparently spent many weeks touring the Wizarding colonies of the African Continent. The letter describing their adventures had enclosed within it, a picture of Ron, who was grinning madly, sunburned from the roots of his hair to his sandaled feet, waving with his arm around a tall brunette in white shorts and a matching oversized shirt. She had, apparently, not forgotten to arm herself with sun shielding charms, and seemed to be unaffected by the heat. She was grinning as well, and blowing kisses at the camera.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Just when I thought I couldn't get any happier, something comes along to prove me wrong. It turns out, there is a vacant lot quite close to Harry's house that is being put up for sale. I've enquired about the price, and if I scrape things together, I think I can swing it. Its quite large, and I'm planning to buy it, build a home for Clara, and a Quidditch pitch. It's not only going to be for me, you see, I'm planning to open a Quidditch school! Isn't that the most marvellous idea? It was Clara's of course, she thought of it the instant she saw the lot. It will be great, I can run it out of the house, and I'll train all the kids from the neighbouring villages and towns. It's going to be fantastic Hermione, you'll see. I'll get the money together somehow. Harry has offered to lend me whatever I need, but I'd rather do this myself, you know. Good for my ego and all that. Well, wish me luck!  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
You remember, a couple of months ago, when I wrote to you and said that I couldn't possibly get any happier? Well, I was wrong again. Clara told me yesterday that she's preggers! Yes, that's right- I'm going to be a father! I'm still getting over the idea, I mean, Me, a father? I don't even feel like I've grown up myself. Imagine having to be responsible for a whole other human being. Merlin, I'm torn between giving into the urge to dance a wild jig every few minutes, hug my wife, and worry to death that he (I've already decided that it's going to be a boy) is going to turn out like Fred and George. When I brought up the subject with Clara, she laughed at me, but I'm serious. Oh dear, what am I going to do? I wish you were here Hermione; you always were the voice of reason. Harry, Sirius and Draco are very excited as well; Draco is shopping for ridiculously expensive baby clothes and toys as we speak. I do know of one thing I have to do. I have to buy that lot. Now, more than ever, I want to build a home for Clara and our child. The Quidditch School can wait, but the house can't. You know, it's odd. Even though you don't reply to the letters I send you, I've come to depend on them. I feel like I can hear you talking to me as I write to you. I know the idea is silly, but I can't help it. I just wanted to thank you for that. Have I mentioned this before? Well, too bad, I'm telling you again anyway.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Well, the plot's paid for (don't ask me where all the money came from, I'll just leave it by saying that the Goblins at Gringott's loan division are going to be my best friends for the next ten years), and the construction of the house is well underway. Clara is doing well also, she's amazingly strong. The baby is due in a couple of months, and she has Finally consented to going on maternity leave. She'll be overseeing the house as well, I think the construction wizards are afraid of her, they think she might turn them all into gnats or something if they cross her. It's all very unfair you know, you spend your entire childhood battling the most powerful Dark Wizard that ever lived, and no one so much as lifts an eyebrow when you enter a room, but a pregnant witch can cause an entire houseful of fully grown Wizards to quake in their boots. Anyhow, that's all the news for this month, oh, other than the fact that Dagny, Sirius' niece has moved into Godric's Hollow. Her mother passed away a few months ago, you know, and she's decided that she needs someone else to take care of now. So, she's turned her attention to those two. I think she has her eye on Harry though. It's rather amusing actually. Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione  
  
Greetings from Jannat. That's our new home by the way, the name means 'Heaven' in Arabic. Jehaan, Sirius' liaison at the Ministry christened it when he saw the site, and the name's stuck. Clara likes it, but I just think it's because she fancies him. I'm just glad he didn't think to call it 'Niggle Merp' or something. We moved bag and baggage in here about a week ago. Things are still getting constructed, but at least it's liveable. The kitchen, lavatories, *ahem* bedroom are more or less done, but the nursery and halls are still being worked on. I've been given the task of overseeing the nursery, which I intend to have perfect by the time the baby arrives. Clara is handling the rest of the house. There's good news by the way. Yes, more of it. (Insert Big Grin here) I was going to keep it under my hat till everything was finalised, but I had to tell you. Dagny and I have decided to open the Quidditch Academy together! She's going to put in the initial capital to get things going, and I'm providing the space. So, it works out, more or less, and if all goes according to plan, (which, by the by, was written on two rather greasy table napkins) it should be up and running in a couple of months! I'm absolutely beside myself. My baby coming, and my dream of teaching Quidditch finally coming through! Imagine, Hermione, maybe my son will be seeker for the Canons one day! And when he wins the World Cup for England, he can stand on the podium and proudly say 'It's all because of my dad, He taught me everything I know.' Oh my lord. I'm going to be a dad. The idea is hitting home a little more often these days. It just occurred to me, that not only am I going to have a baby, the baby's going to have Me. Well, I'm off to panic now. Cheerio.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
He's here! He's Here! I told you it would be a boy, didn't I? Well, it is a boy, a beautiful, perfect, adorable, red- headed (of course) baby boy! William Ronald Weasley was born on September 15th 2011 at 10:15 in the morning. Clara started feeling the pains at about 7 am, and we took her straight to St Mungo's Maternity Ward. She was wonderful, didn't even ask for pain- easing charms. I wish you could see him, Hermione; he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Of course, I'm saying that now, when I'm vomit free, but he really is. If it's all right with you, I'd like you to be his Godmother. I know, Dagny would be the natural choice, she's taken to him like a salamander to a flame already, but with Harry as his Godfather, I couldn't ask anyone else to be Godmother. I know I'm probably not going to get a letter of acceptance from you after all these years, but too bad, you're stuck with the job.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Reading the next letter, was dated about 5 months after William's birth announcement, and was probably the shortest of the lot, made Hermione's heart break all over again.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
I'm sorry, I haven't been writing, and this letter won't be terribly long either. I'm just writing to tell you that Clara passed away two months and seventeen days ago. She had just gone back to work, when there was a report of a rabid Manticore that was terrorising a Wizarding prep school near Kent. They were short on Aurors that week or something, so they sent her in. She didn't survive the encounter. I'd go into more detail, but I can't get myself to go over it again. Every time I think of how her body looked, lying there on the cold slab at the hospital, all broken and bleeding and cold. she was so Cold Hermione. I can't. I'm sorry. I have to be strong for Billy; he needs me right now.  
  
Love, Ron  
  
**********  
  
The letters grew more infrequent after that, arriving once every few months at the most.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
We celebrated Billy's first birthday today. It was a small party at home, with only family members (Ok, so it wasn't That small), Draco, Harry, Sirius, Dagny, and a couple of our students from the Academy. It went well, I think, Billy seemed to enjoy himself. It wasn't the same without Clara though. I can tell you that, I couldn't tell the others; after all, they had gone through so much trouble to make it nice. He's finally stopped crying for her, I guess that's a good sign. Earlier, he used to be up all night, wailing, and there was nothing I could do to help him, especially since most of the time, I felt like wailing myself. I suppose it is getting easier to deal with the fact that she's not going to be next to me when I wake up in the morning. And, it's easier to wake up in the mornings now, before, the only reason I could find to get out of bed used to be for Billy. Now, I can almost look forward to the day. I don't want to though. I don't want to look forward to the day without Clara. I feel guilty all the time now, for laughing, because she isn't there to laugh with me, for enjoying my teaching, because she isn't there to watch our students learn to catch or throw, to watch Billy stand or speak for the first time, because she created him, and she won't get to watch him grow up; to do Anything, because she isn't there to do it with me. It isn't fair, is it? They say it will get better, and I suppose it does, but I don't want it to. It's selfish of me probably, to feel like that, but I can't help it. I don't want to enjoy living in a world without Clara. Thanks for listening. Even if you aren't.  
  
Love, Ron  
  
**********  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
This one's on behalf of Sirius. I don't remember if I've mentioned it before, but Harry, Draco and He are part of a sort of right- wing organisation that's affiliated with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They deal with Dark uprisings wherever they occur, largely keeping their activities a secret. Anyway, there have been an increasing number of attacks by seemingly normal Witches and Wizards on innocent victims lately. The last one occurred when an old Wizard somehow Levitated his wife in the air about fifty feet, and then dropped her for no apparent reason whatsoever. They hadn't been fighting before that. I don't have too many details other than what they've told me, and what was published in the Daily Prophet, but from what I gather, things aren't as random as they seem. Sirius wants to know if you can return to help them out with some sort of Charms research. Apparently, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Department seems to have more of less disbanded after Voldemort fell. They think it's someone casting a more complicated version of the Imperio curse on these people. No one here has had half as much experience as you when it comes to Charm analysis and counter- measures. Aside from Harry I suppose, but then again, his experience involved more avoiding them than understanding them. And, you were always the very best at Charms. Yes, I know I'm resorting to shallow flattery, but I think they're desperate Hermione, frankly, I doubt they would have asked for you if they weren't. I hope you get this and return. There will always be a home for you at Jannat.  
  
Love always, Ron  
  
**********  
  
The next few letters went on to describe the attacks, and the Ministry's growing anxiety over their inability to catch the responsible party. The letters also hinted that while Sirius was insistent that Hermione be brought in, Harry was against it. The last letter Hermione received was dated a few days before Christmas 2015, where Ron told her to expect Harry sometime in the next few days.  
  
"If you had read this," Hermione muttered to herself, "You would have saved yourself a bloody heart attack. Silly twit, you never could keep your nose out of things, and the one time it really counted, you had to be a mule about it."  
  
It had taken Hermione the entire night to go through the rest of Ron and the other's letters. By the time she stood up and stretched again, the sun was streaming in through her windows.  
  
She bathed and drank a strong cup of coffee, took a deep breath and pointed her wand at her fireplace, muttering a few words under her breath. A couple of seconds later, Sirius' sleep tousled head appeared in the fire, yawning and rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Good morning Hermione," he half mumbled, and then opened his eyes a little wider, looking at the dark circles under hers. "You were up all night weren't you? Reading the letters?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione said, her voice sounding shakier than she'd have liked, "and I've decided. I'd like to help in any way I can. When can I start?"  
  
  
  
********** 


End file.
